Page 138 of Reign

“Yes.” Her mouth twists. “Angelo said business would be safer. More useful. More respectable.”

“And you listened.”

“I was eighteen, and everyone kept telling me what was practical.” She looks away, but the light in her doesn’t disappear. “So I went to school for business. I’m good at it. I just don’t love it.”

I study her face.

She actually brings the designs in her sketchbook to life.

As she talks, she runs her tongue across her bottom lip. The gloss she applied earlier has worn away, leaving the center dry. She’s too animated by the arrival of her fabrics to notice.

I do.

I don’t interrupt her. I remember it.

“The men are waiting at the service entrance.”

Her face brightens. “Now?”

“Yes, princesa,” I say. “You can go delegate.”

She narrows her eyes at me before hurrying toward the hallway.

I stop in the kitchen long enough to take a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

By the time I return, Johan is standing beside two stacked boxes while Elena points toward the stairs.

“The fabrics can go in my room,” she says. “Near the closet is fine.”

“Put them in the east office,” I tell Johan.

Elena turns. “Why?”

“The light is better, and there’s enough room for your sewing machine.”

Confusion softens the line between her brows. “There’s furniture in there already.”

“It can be moved.”

“Luciano, you don’t have to give me an office.”

“I know.”

The answer quiets her.

I’ve known she brings the clothing in her sketches to life for less than five minutes, and I already like the idea of finding her in that room, surrounded by fabric and unfinished designs.

I hold the water out to her.

She looks at the bottle, then at me. “What’s this?”

“Water.”

“I know what water is.”

“The fact that you don’t drink enough suggests otherwise.”

Her eyes narrow. “Are you going to monitor my beverages now?”